


Black Mambo

by fontainefriction



Category: Game Grumps, Youtube RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4370981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fontainefriction/pseuds/fontainefriction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark's not the kind of person to summon demons, but he's found himself at a black altar all the same. With his death looming over his head, surely a little dark magic couldn't hurt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Mambo

The moment held and held, and Mark’s grip on the knife tightened until his knuckles stood out white under his skin. His living room was silent save for his breathing and the perplexed chirp of the other bird in its cage.

The feathered body held gently under Mark’s other hand against the makeshift altar began to grow cold, the fluttering heartbeat long stilled.

He felt frozen, the tears stinging his eyes until Mark thought he would go blind, warm teardrops leaving sticky trails down his cheeks. Still he waited, muscles aching, legs asleep beneath him. He waited because if he gave up now, it was for nothing.

It was hours. It was agony.

The lights around his altar, tall candles of black wax, went out one by one, until Mark was left staring at the one lit across from him, willing it to stay alight, willing himself not to think about the blood congealing in his fingers.

The flame flickered out, and that was when Mark broke, a strangled sound of dismay wrenching from his lips. His lungs felt too big for his chest, his throat raw and swollen. He knew his heart was hammering, forcing the cold sweat out on his forehead, but Mark didn’t feel it. He was too numb.

The blood was dried on his fingers, and it cracked as he dropped the dead bird onto the altar, scattering drops of oil and spring water. The other bird, still in its cage, squawked at Mark’s movement.

The oils were supposed to keep the ritual focused. The incense was supposed to induce spirits. The chalk circle marked by the candles and small chunks of onyx was supposed to make this so damn easy.

But Mark had waited, waited for _hours_ , and there was nothing.

There was nothing.

“This is the most depressing apartment I have ever been in.”

Mark tried to stand, but his legs were still asleep. He stumbled, fumbled, rubbing furiously at his eyes as he regained his feet. He rubbed his eyes again when he got a good look. Mark had only hoped, even dared dream for a flicker, a shadow, a semblance of demonic energy.

“Avidan?”

“I prefer Dan.” The demon, the fully corporeal demon was sitting on the back of the couch Mark had pushed up against the wall to make room for his altar.

He was thin, all angles and limbs, hips swathed in close-fitted jeans and shoulders in an open black leather jacket, bare-chested. A chain with geometric charms on it dangled against his collar bone. His hair commanded the most attention. It was feral; a mane of untamed brown curls that rode the collar of his jacket.

He kicked up his worn boots along the length of Mark’s couch and grinned. He’d looked nearly human until that smile. With his teeth bared, he was bestial. “But since you summoned me, you can call me what you like. We’ve only got 12 hours, after all.”

“I… I thought maybe it was fake, even after everything.” Mark heard the quaver in his voice and tried to even it out. All the forums said to command the demon. Don’t let it feel weakness.

Dan’s grin vanished, his eyes locked with Mark’s. Those eyes were ravenous, so dark brown they were nearly black, and cold like a gem, though what gem could hold so much energy, Mark couldn’t imagine.

There was a moment so tenuous Mark could feel when it snapped, then Dan wasn’t on the couch anymore. He was stooped over the bird cage. The bird still inside went crazy trying to escape, battering itself against the metal bars painted white.

“You killed a lovebird in front of its mate? That’s power,” Dan tapped the bars with slender fingers.

Mark could see the white bars turning red. “Stop that. Get away from it!”

Then Dan was beside him, crouching so he could see the altar up close. Mark could feel the energy radiating off him, raw power that made Mark’s head spin, his vision blur. Heat suffused his body, and all Mark wanted to do was bury his nose against the nape of Dan’s neck until he smelled the scent of his hair, felt the heat of his skin.

“You cried when you killed it. Most who summon me cried over their sacrifices, too.” His voice was husky. “But they were ashamed. They think it’s weakness. You’re not ashamed. You smell….”

Mark risked meeting his eye again and suspected Dan was being pulled as strongly toward Mark as Mark was toward him.

“You smell like cedar.”

Mark could feel the fever of his skin, the sensation of Dan’s lips faintly brushing his own, and just as suddenly as he had drawn close, Dan vanished, prowling the opposite side of the altar like a caged animal.

“So, what do you want? Men like you don’t summon demons every day.” He sneered. His eyes traced the contours of Mark’s chest hungrily.

Mark blushed, but now he was on safer footing, practiced ground. “If I give you what you want, I get one wish?”

“Ah.” A shade of Dan’s former grin returned. “You want sex magic.”

“W-well. If that’s the cost,” Mark stammered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dan rolled his eyes. “You used a succubus ritual. What else would I ask for, your firstborn? I’m a demon, but even I have standards.”

“Could you stop mentioning the demon thing? This is hard enough,” Mark snapped. He ran his fingers through his hair more to hide their shaking than to express frustration. He could still feel the bird’s blood flaking off his skin. For a moment, he thought he was going to be sick right there on the altar. He turned away, his clean hand covering his mouth.

Warm hands on his shoulders, his back, rubbing the tension from his muscles as Mark fought back his nausea.

“Okay,” Dan said. He was different, soothing. “Okay, just tell me what you need. Let’s start with your name, your story.”

“But, the time limit-” Mark’s voice broke.

Then Dan was before him, hip to hip, Mark’s chin just skimming Dan’s shoulder. The zipper of Dan’s jacket scratched against Mark’s stomach through the thin cotton of his shirt as Dan pushed Mark back toward the couch with gentle hands and coaxing words.

“You’ll know when the time limit is up. Until then, I’m yours-?”

“Mark.”

“Until then, I’m yours, Mark.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Mark finally relented and sat down on the couch, Dan had coiled up beside him silently, one hand on Mark’s chest. He’d waited for Mark to speak, which Mark appreciated. He could still feel the irresistible pull of the wicked power at Dan’s fingertips, the magnetism in his lips. It was like watching motion through frosted glass; Mark could sense it, but the true shape of the raw sensuality Dan exuded was cloaked now.

It was better if Mark spoke before Dan clouded his mind too much. “I want my family and my friends to be happy.”

Dan chuckled darkly. “That’s a vague wish, at best. It’s crap. I can’t work with that.”

“I know, I know, just listen, please.” Mark stopped Dan’s hand on his thigh where it had been creeping steadily upward.

“Who says fucking please to a succubus,” Dan muttered, but he seemed more willing to keep his hands still, so Mark continued.

“I want to die alone.” The decision had been solid in Mark’s mind for a few months now, but this was the first time he’d said them out loud. It was surreal. Words so final falling from lips so numb.

“I’m really sick. Bone cancer. I’m in a lot of pain most of the time. I had to drop out of school. I can’t work on things I love anymore, and I can see how much its hurting people around me. It just feels like I’m… lingering. The treatments are worse than the pain. I can’t take it anymore- I don’t want to feel anything anymore.” Mark closed his eyes for a moment, letting the aches wash over him like a current. Sometimes it made it easier to bear when he stopped to give himself over completely.

“I just want to curl up and fade away. The grief is almost as bad as the cancer, to them.”

“So why not wish for the pain to stop?” Dan asked, smoothing Mark’s shirt casually. His touch brought Mark back to the present, his fever reduced to a dull wash through the back of his mind.

“I know how it works,” Mark said. “I did my research. And I couldn’t live with that.”

Dan nodded. It made Mark feel a little better that Dan didn’t lie through his teeth about it. Maybe he couldn’t. There were rules about this kind of engagement, as twisted as it was. If Mark asked a question, Dan had to answer it. If Mark wished for health, someone he loved would die in his place.

“Have you told the people you’re leaving behind?”

“What’s the point of that? It would just hurt them more.” Mark studied his hands, picking blood from under a ragged thumbnail intently.

“So you’ve pushed them away, but that’s hurting you. I can feel it inside you, you know. It’s just as heavy and black as the cancer.” Dan stayed his hands. Mark considered pulling away, but the touch felt good. It was a connection.

“All my hurting will stop soon,” Mark said. This was the crux of his plan, the reason he’d reached out to the occult when he wasn’t even sure it was real. “My family and friends will feel it long after I’m gone. I don’t want that. I want peace for them.”

“You’re holding back,” Dan interrupted. “Even dying, you’re holding back. You may not like it, but this is a demon you’re talking to, and you’re a dying man. What use are secrets to us anyway?”

“Do you want this deal or not?”

Stay on track, Mark repeated to himself firmly. Demons were deception, temptation, and distraction. He knew that. As long as he stayed focused, he would come out on top. The gleam in Dan’s eye didn’t matter, nor the cut of his smile. Mark could be strong, this one last time.

“Liar,” Dan said softly. “This deal was done for you as soon as you spilled blood. We’re just arguing the terms.”

He eased himself onto Mark’s lap, running his hands through Mark’s hair, and- oh Jesus- it didn’t hurt. Mark moaned, actually moaned, and tears sprang to his eyes again because it didn’t hurt when Dan touched him.

“We’ll seal it now if you like,” Dan spoke against the shell of Mark’s ear, his hair cascading over one shoulder in a wild froth.

“The cancer…” Mark warned, but it was weak.

Dan laughed, “You already know it doesn’t hurt with me. That’s my gift, free of charge.”

He trailed his lips up the side of Mark’s neck, and that was all it took, Mark’s hands sliding unbidden over Dan’s hips.

Dan’s skin was warm, his muscles coiling in anticipation under Mark’s touch. The curve of his back was smooth, sinewy, and when Mark’s reach was impeded by the tight stretch of Dan’s clothes, he found himself hungry to explore further.

“Can I take off your jacket?” Mark asked, sitting up slightly, then he almost giggled at the absurdity of the question. He felt like he was waking from a dream, or maybe moving to a better one. The aching cold in his veins was being pushed out by the heat, every deadened nerve resurrected at a touch.

Dan smirked. “Lovely, you can do whatever you want tonight.”

Mark paused in the middle of helping Dan shrug off his leather, trapping Dan’s arms in the sleeves. He held Dan there, with his bare chest thrust forward, his eyes coaxing Mark, daring him.

“A kiss?” Mark asked.

Slowly, deliberately, Dan leaned forward until their noses brushed. He touched his lips to Mark’s in a way that was almost chaste until Mark pressed back and Dan’s mouth opened like a flower at the pressure. He tasted sweet; hell, he even smelled sweet, the scent of lavender filling Mark’s nose.

Mark threw the jacket aside and pulled Dan closer. His hands found Dan’s hair soft and endless. When Mark tugged at the roots, Dan made sounds so soft Mark’s mouth went dry.

Mark could feel as Dan kicked off his boots. His mouth was open and hot, nipping along Mark’s collarbone. His hands were massaging against Mark’s stomach, his nails scratching just hard enough to keep Mark on edge.

Mark circled the pad of his thumb against one of Dan’s nipples, testing, and almost at once it stiffened to a peak. Mark nosed the other one erect and sucked it into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. He kissed it, feeling the faint bumps of Dan’s areola soft against Mark’s lips.

Dan bucked mindlessly, and Mark realized Dan’s erection rivaled his own, even through their jeans. Mark inched a hand down Dan’s stomach, intending to give Dan’s libido- and his cock- a healthy nudge, but Dan stopped him, eyes flickering open.

“Not here. Your bed.”

“You’re pretty traditionalist for a sex demon. Did I summon the only prude in hell?” Mark chuckled, his voice husky. His laughter cut off quickly for a groan when Dan groped him through his jeans, capturing Mark’s mouth in a demanding kiss. Mark saw stars, his legs straining helplessly.

“You have your altar, and I have mine.” Dan growled. He climbed off Mark, standing before him. Mark could pick out the marks his mouth had already left in a trail down the left side of Dan’s chest. Topless, hair wild from Mark’s hands, eyes gleaming with mischief, he looked more bestial than ever.

Mark had a sudden flash of what Dan would look like tamed, moaning Mark’s name as Mark buried himself in Dan to the hilt, begging as Mark made his toes curl.

“I want you,” Mark said. He barely recognized his own voice it was so thick.

Dan swayed unerringly toward the bedroom, his hips mesmerizing as he moved. “Come take me, lovely.”

His back arched as he passed through the doorway, and Mark couldn’t contain himself anymore. He strode across the room, spinning Dan to face him and pushing him back toward the bed. The edge of the mattress tripped them both, and Mark went down on top of Dan, bracing on his forearms to avoid crushing him.

He pushed all the thoughts of his death from his mind, poured all his desperation into the kiss he pressed to Dan’s jaw.

The adrenaline pumping through his veins was almost as sweet as Dan’s scent, the energy pouring out of him effortlessly. Mark hadn’t felt this in-control in months.

He was drunk on the pleasure, but also the freedom from pain. Every movement was a victory, a liberty Mark would never take for granted again. He pulled at the front of Dan’s jeans so hard the button came off in his hand. Mark tossed it aside with an impatient sound.

Dan stopped him with a kiss, slow and hot, one hand lingering on the back of Mark’s neck.

“Slow down, you’re ruining my clothes,” he said silkily. Mark could feel Dan’s lips curl upward against his own. “Besides, I can make it interesting.”

Before Mark could say anything, Dan’s knees were squeezing against his hips. Dan arched his back, bringing his hips off the bed. He wriggled his jeans and briefs down his legs, each motion rubbing his body against Mark. His _deliciously_ naked body.

Dan finished by kicking the jeans from his ankles, resting his arms on Mark’s shoulders. He looked immensely pleased with himself, his eyes smoldering and his wild hair a halo spread out on the bedsheets. “Now it’s your turn to strip, lovely.”

“In a minute,” Mark murmured, his eyes still on the tempting golden skin of Dan’s thighs. He was intensely aware that he was fully clothed while Dan was nude. It was a powerful thought.

Mark kissed Dan again, more forcefully this time, his hands wandering down Dan’s sides. He turned his mouth downward as well, kissing down the other side of Dan’s chest, stopping to admire the freckles that littered his shoulders and his stomach. He kissed as many as he could.

Dan’s cock, when Mark reached it, was hard and flushed dark. Mark kissed along his shaft experimentally, and smiled when Dan sighed contentedly.

“You’re circumcised,” Mark noted, using one hand to squeeze the base of Dan’s cock.

Dan groaned at the sensation, his hips jerking when Mark flicked his tongue against Dan’s tip. “What were you expecting, exactly?”

“I dunno, a tentacle maybe? But you’re gorgeous.” Mark put his mouth around the head of Dan’s cock and swirled his tongue around him once, quickly. It shut up any retort Dan may have been forming; he could only clutch at the sheets and whine softly, his legs spreading further.

Mark smiled faintly, licking the palm of his hand and closing it around Dan’s shaft. He jerked Dan off with gradual strokes.

“What’s the point of teasing the sex demon, Mark?” Dan panted. His head was thrown back and his legs were askew. He thrust upward into Mark’s hand, urging him to go faster. Mark didn’t oblige him. “If you don’t get naked and fuck me soon, I’m going to start calling for God.”

“Blasphemous,” Mark chuckled. He waited until he could see the pre-cum trickling from Dan’s slit, then he lowered his mouth again, taking in Dan’s cock slowly this time, rolling the taste of him over his tongue. Dan was warm, almost human, the salt from his sweat and pre-cum dominating. There was a hint of a strange spice Mark had never tasted before, something intoxicating.

“Mm,” Mark made his satisfaction known as he slid more of Dan’s shaft in his mouth, and the vibrations made Dan mewl, a taut sound that matched the curl of his body. Mark bobbed up once, twice, letting his bottom lip catch on the sensitive place just under the head of Dan’s cock, then he pulled away, strands of fluids cooling against his chin.

He wiped his mouth on his forearm idly.

“You didn’t summon me just to suck dick, lovely.” Dan’s voice was breathless now, genuinely impatient. Through the dimness of the bedroom, Mark could see Dan’s eyes had dilated. They glimmered in the dark, unmistakably hungry.

“Get naked or I’m going to rip off your clothes.”

Mark’s jeans had grown uncomfortably tight. He shimmied out of them quickly, boxers too, then pulled his shirt over his head. If there was an awkward moment when Dan saw him nude for the first time, Dan didn’t let it last long. He pulled Mark back down against him, their dicks rubbing together, trapped between their stomachs.

It was Mark’s turn to groan as Dan ground upward against him, the friction between their cocks sending delicious shivers through Mark’s body. There was fire in his veins, pooling in his stomach. The sounds Dan was making made Mark’s blood sing, and he pressed closer, their lips joining. Mark caressed the side of Dan’s neck as he humped him against the mattress.

Dan’s hands went involuntarily over his head as his feet caught against the edge of the mattress for leverage, but Mark trapped his wrists there, Mark’s knees bracing on either side of Dan’s thighs. They were both beginning to sweat from their collective body heat, each finding a rhythm that complimented the other as they ground together.

“Hard- harder,” Mark heard himself saying, demanding. He’d settled into the groove of Dan’s pelvis, rubbing his cock against Dan’s slick skin. He actually growled when Dan shifted, pushing their bodies apart slightly.

“Hold it, lovely, hold it. I know it’s been a while.” Dan was practically purring. He was still so self-assured, Dan couldn’t resist reaching down and rubbing his thumb against the tip of Dan’s cock until Dan’s breath caught audibly, and his wrists strained against Mark’s other hand.

“If you would stop teasing and fuck me speechless, that would be great,” Dan said, his voice wavering with the circles of Mark’s thumb. He pulled his legs from between Mark’s and settled them around, Dan’s ass sitting neatly against Mark’s thighs.

“I’ll find some lube. Oh! And protection…?” Mark stopped to look down at Dan in askance.

Dan rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to catch hell STDs, but I don’t think you want a UTI either. And we need to use the same oil from your ritual for this, to seal our agreement.”

Mark padded quickly into the living room for the oil, then rummaged through his nightstand for a condom. It was very difficult to find in the dark when Mark could see Dan stretched out languidly from the corner of his eye. Dan was toying with his dick, rolling his balls through his fingers.

It was very distracting.

Mark finally got a condom on properly and returned to the bed, oil in hand. Dan welcomed him back with a kiss pressed against Mark’s shoulder, the edge of his teeth dragging against Mark’s throat. “Don’t worry about prep, we just need the oil.”

“You’re sure?” The images of fucking Dan had filled Mark’s head again, making it difficult to think. The scent of lavender surrounded him. “Without stretching-”

“Succubus,” Dan reminded him softly. “Literally made for sex here. And now. Actually, the sooner I feel your dick inside me, the happier I’m going to be.”

Mark used a palmful of oil to slick his condom, then rubbed more oil against Dan’s entrance. Mark could feel the pucker of Dan’s muscles twitch under his fingers, and he began to doubt Dan’s assurance that he didn’t need preparation for this. Dan’s entrance felt no less closed than any unprepared man Mark had been with.

He pushed the doubts aside and brought Dan’s legs up by his knees, pressing them apart. Mark used one hand to guide his cock to Dan’s entrance, his other hand hold one of Dan’s legs higher.

The pressure against the rim of Dan’s muscles came, built, and suddenly Mark was inside of him, sliding into a pocket of incredible tight, wet heat.

“Ohh, fuck,” Dan gasped. He rolled his hips once, adjusting, and the motion almost made Mark come undone.

Mark’s hands bit into Dan’s hips, and he dragged him closer. Dan’s eyes were shut, the ghost of a smile on his lips as Mark pushed deeper.

“My god, you really were made for sex,” Mark said hoarsely.

Dan kissed him deeply, roughly, wrapping his arms around Mark’s shoulders as Mark began to move. Mark pushed carefully at first, testing how deep he could thrust, what reactions Dan had to different angles. It was difficult to restrain himself from ramming home, but it was worth it to watch the changing expressions on Dan’s face, the twitching of his cock, the small, almost incoherent encouragements he whined.

Mark hit a position that made them both cry out, Dan’s ragged, keening voice mingling in concert with Mark’s deep groan, and the fire inside Mark blazed free of any restraint.

He pushed Dan’s legs higher, his knees pressed back almost against his chest as Mark fucked him, the mattress springs creaking with each thrust. Mark picked up his rhythm, chasing the pleasure that was plateauing, Dan’s walls squeezing tighter around him, Mark’s balls drawing up tight against his body-

And abruptly Dan’s hands were on Mark’s hips, holding him in place, keeping him from something wonderful, something Mark needed desperately.

“Tell me what you want,” Dan demanded, his voice shaking, and Mark knew this was as hard for Dan as it was for him.

“Let go, and I’ll show you,” Mark said. He tried to push into Dan again, but Dan’s grip was like steel, keeping their bodies apart.

“Stop that- stop!” Dan shook Mark irritably, whimpering slightly when the motion rubbed the head of Mark’s dick against Dan’s entrance. “Mark, you need to _tell me what you want_.”

Mark went still, eyes locked with Dan’s, and he suddenly knew what Dan meant. This was the moment when he offered up what he wanted from their arrangement, just before Dan received what he came for. This was when Mark made sure his family was happy when he was gone, that all the isolation, all the pain wouldn’t leave grief when he wasn’t there to console them.

But something kept him from asking, a deep, familiar abyss inside of Mark that opened wide at the thought of his death and swallowed him whole. Tears sprang to his eyes at the emptiness, the bleakness, and Mark heard himself say. “Please don’t let me die alone.”

Just like that, Dan’s hands were on his shoulders again, coaxing, pulling him back in, and Mark slid deep, gathering Dan in his arms as he thrust. He rested his head against Dan’s slender shoulder, rocking, finding his rhythm again, but the tears kept coming through the pleasure. Part of it was the release, the shattering of a dam Mark had built within himself the day the doctors told him chemo wouldn’t help this time. He’d resolved to face it alone, but he was weak. He was weak, and he was selfish, and he was dying.

“Not alone, don’t let me die alone. Please. Please.” Mark was repeating, his voice catching in his throat. Dan stopped him with a kiss, moving with him this time, his fingernails digging furrows in Mark’s back. It was a good pain, a raw pain. It made the pleasure burn brighter, and Mark soon found himself plateauing again, fucking Dan desperately as he tried to peak.

“Avidan- Dan, ah, fuck,” Mark groaned. Dan was with him, body twisting frantically, legs spreading to let Mark hit new places inside of him, his sighs and half-articulate pleas edging Mark on until he came hard.

“Ohh _fuck_ ,” Mark gasped, every muscle going rigid in orgasm, still thrusting into Dan in short, quick bursts. Groping, he wrapped a fist loosely around the head of Dan’s cock, now practically soaked with pre-cum, and squeezed, jacking him. A few strokes and Dan was gone as well, body squeezing exquisitely tight around Mark’s dick, prolonging both of their orgasms.

The moment held, and held, and then it was over, Mark collapsed against Dan, panting, his face still pressed against Dan’s neck.

Dan was stroking his hair gently, soothingly, but both men were too sweaty for the skin-to-skin contact to remain comfortable for long. Mark slid out of Dan with a shaky sigh, rolling off him and into a sitting position.

Dan followed him, catching his wrist when Mark moved to take off the condom. “Let me.”

Mark gave him an odd look, but let him pull off the phylactery.

“Thanks.” Dan tied it off, but made no move to take it to the bathroom. Instead, he set it on the floor beside the bed.

“It’s the last thing I need. For later. Now….” Dan grabbed a towel from the floor and wiped the cum from his stomach, then returned to the bed, pushing Mark backward gingerly. “You should sleep. This is going to take a toll on you in the morning. You’re still a sick man, lovely.”

“You’re here for like nine more hours,” Mark said, resisting. “What are you going to do?”

Dan snorted. “Also sleep. I haven’t been fucked like that in a while. My hickeys have hickeys. You mind sharing the bed?”

“No,” Mark said. He laid down on his side, watching Dan settle under the covers. “Hey, about our deal-”

“Sleep.” Dan cut him off, but his voice was soft. “The deal is done. You’ll see in the morning.”

“Thank you,” Mark said. His eyelids were growing heavy, but he reached out to Dan before he closed them. He felt Dan’s fingers meet his hesitantly, then lace together.

“Who thanks the fucking sex demon?” He heard Dan mutter, then Mark was gone.

 

The next morning, Mark woke up in pain, even worse than the aching pain he woke up in most mornings. The muscles in his back and his legs were stiff and outraged at the previous night’s physical activity. It took Mark several tries to even sit up.

Dan was gone. Mark sensed the empty space in his bed before he even opened his eyes, but the weight of disappointment still filled his stomach when he saw the indentation in the mattress next to him. The used condom had vanished as well; he’d taken his payment with him, it seemed.

Mark took a deep breath and regained his feet, shuffling to the bathroom as fast as he could. He felt a little better once he peed and splashed water on his face, but numbness was setting again. The morning after a deal with a demon, and he was still sick, still alone, and still unsure how his loved ones would cope when he was gone. Had anything really changed at all?

Mark pulled on a pair of his boxers and made it to the doorway of his bedroom before he had to rest, leaning heavily against the frame. His movements caused the birds to chirp inquisitively from their cage- wait, birds?

He looked again and confirmed that two lovebirds were still in the huge cage he’d gotten at the pet store, both alive and well. The feathered body from his makeshift altar was gone, but the leather jacket and boots tossed on the floor beside his couch was still there.

“Morning.”

Still reeling from the resurrected bird, Mark nearly fell over when Dan sauntered into the living room from the kitchen. His bed hair was no noticeably different from his sex hair, though Mark could still make out several of the more florid marks his mouth had left on Dan’s neck.

Dan was bare-chested, but he’d pulled his jeans back on. They were undone, the loose sides drawing attention to his hips. He held a frying pan in one hand, and he was looking at Mark expectantly. Mark realized he’d been staring at Dan’s chest long enough to miss whatever Dan had asked.

“What was that?” Mark cleared his throat uncomfortably.

Dan rolled his eyes. “I asked how you wanted your eggs.”

“Scrambled is fine.”

“Okay, boring cancer guy. I’d think you would want to live a little before you died.” Dan inclined his head toward the kitchen as he turned away. “Come on in. I’m covering breakfast, if you couldn’t tell.”

Mark sat down at his kitchen table carefully. The digital clock on the stove told him it was almost noon. Mark had performed the ritual at eleven last night; twelve hours was more than over.

Dan was already cracking two eggs open in a bowl. He opened a drawer without looking and fished out a fork, using it to whisk the yolks together.

“One fork? Who decided you could live alone, man,” Dan said as he poured the eggs into the pan.

Seeing Dan’s familiarity with the kitchen was the last straw; Mark shook off his daze. “Listen, I’m grateful for the breakfast, but why are you still here?”

“Are you always so smooth the morning after?” Dan retorted. The eggs in the pan were bubbling already. Dan kept them from sticking to the pan bottom with the fork.

“Sorry,” Mark said. “But the contract was for twelve hours, and that’s up. Do I need to call an exorcist or something?”

“ _That_ is offensive,” Dan said. He jabbed the fork at Mark as he took a plate from a nearby cabinet. “Also, kind of hurtful.”

He set the plate on the table in front of Mark and began piling on the eggs. “Your brother called this morning looking for you, but I didn’t want to wake you up. I told him you’d call back this afternoon because he sounded pretty worried.”

Dan left the fork he used on Mark’s plate, taking the frying pan to the sink and running cold water over it. The steam’s hiss made it hard to hear what he said next. “Your insurance company called too, but I told them to fuck off. Do you have green tea, by the way?”

Mark got to his feet and cut Dan off before he could reach the fridge, grabbing his shoulders. Dan met Mark’s eye, but his expression was guarded.

“Dan. Why are you still here?” Mark asked again.

Dan sighed. “I thought maybe if I gave you enough time, you’d figure it out. When we fulfilled the contract, you asked not to die alone. Well….” He gestured to himself uncomfortably. “This wouldn’t be alone.”

Mark stared at him, mouth hanging open. Dan’s jaw clenched and he pushed Mark’s hands from his shoulders. “Right, I get it. The contract went wrong. Luckily, I resurrected that loud fucking bird for you. We can try again.”

“Dan. Dan!” Mark caught him by the arm just inside the living room and spun him so they were face-to-face once more.

“What?” Dan snapped. His eyes widened when Mark cradled the side of his face with one hand, limping a little closer.

“Thank you,” Mark said softly, simply. Dan’s breath caught audibly, and he flushed, much to Mark’s delight. “Can I kiss you?” Mark asked.

Dan shook his head, exasperated, but leaned in to kiss Mark first. “You have got to stop asking for things like that.”

Mark considered for a moment and decided he was fine with cold scrambled eggs.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small thank you for everyone who's been reading Sea Glass these last few weeks~
> 
> Inspired by the the Glass Animals song "Black Mambo"


End file.
